HP: For a better world

Wearing the invisibility cloak, Harry climbed up a plateau. The slightly steep slope was covered with thick snow. Harry climbed alone and then sat down on a flat area at the highest point.

Not far away there was a dilapidated, sealed-off hut.

That was the Shrieking Shack.

Desolate and sparsely populated, it is now covered with thick snow, looking silent and lonely.

It doesn't look like a haunted house, but rather an ordinary abandoned house.

The snow was still falling and did not stop because of anyone's pain.

Harry was a little cold. He had just gotten the Marauder's Map and had run out to play with Winster excitedly, without a cloak. Unlike Winster, who loved the cloak and had been wearing it all the time.

It's a bit late now to say I regret coming out to play.

The snow covered Harry's hair, eyebrows and limbs. The wind whistled with a cold and ruthless feeling, which was somewhat like when he was a child in Privet Drive, curled up in a quilt without food, hungry and cold, and locked in a cupboard - of course, this situation was rare and only happened when Aunt Petunia and Uncle were not at home.

He was supposed to have a home.

Just like Hagrid said, he would have two fathers and one mother... They would be as loving as Ron's parents, knitting sweaters for him, mending his clothes, bringing him pies, and keeping him warm... Then after playing crazy outside with his father or godfather, he would receive a hug from his mother, or it could be a hug... a scolding... a scolding... or even a howling letter of his own.

Will Winston understand him better? As an orphan, they both live under the care of others. An orphanage is never a good place to go. Harry knows this.

The cold wind flowed in his blood, bringing calm thoughts.

Harry looked up at the moon that was beginning to rise. It was sunset, the sky was hazy, and the drifting clouds were the same color as the hazy moon. This angle was just right to see this rare sky phenomenon at the same time.

……

Winster was wandering on the other side of the snowstorm, watching silently above the Shrieking Shack.

Maybe she was looking for him, but Harry didn't care at the moment. He didn't want to talk or even move. He would rather be buried in the thick snow and forget everything he had heard today.

His nominal godfather destroyed his family and killed the parents who were supposed to have grown up with him and believed in him.

"Harry, Harry Potter, it's my pleasure!" Harry thought of the old wizard who had kissed the back of his hand with gratitude when he first entered school.

……

"Harry—" "Harry—?"

In the distance, Hermione and Ron called out. Harry saw Winston stop to listen, take out something, and then ignore it.

Winster walked towards him, trudging through the snow with one foot deep and one foot shallow. Suddenly, the snow he was standing on collapsed and his feet slid down. He reached out in time to grab a branch sticking out of the snow. Something unknown fell from his body and rolled down the slope, leaving a long trace and rolling towards the Screaming Shack.

Harry watched Winston glance back, but ignored it and continued to climb up towards him, one step at a time.

Harry sat there with a wooden face, motionless. The Invisibility Cloak loosened its frozen hands at some point. Warm tears silently slid down his eyelids and solidified into fine ice crystals.

Frost formed on Harry's face.

"So you're here, Harry."

Winster walked up, looked at Harry's appearance, threw a warming spell at Harry, and sat down quietly beside him.

The tingling warmth spread from Harry's fingertips to his entire body.

Harry's lips, which had been frozen pale, gradually regained their color.

"Thank you...Winster"

Winster heard Harry's trembling breath, with an uncertain tone.

"……what do I do?"

Harry looked at Winston, his eyes full of helplessness and pain, but there was also something cold flowing in them.

"What can I do to repay my parents' death... Will they be angry that I didn't do anything? Or will they be disappointed that I wasn't determined enough to avenge them?..."

"...Winster." Harry murmured, "What should I do."

Hatred is a cold potion.

"What do you want to do, catch him...?"

"..." Harry was silent for a while: "You are right, I can catch him--"

Harry emphasized his tone and repeated: "I can catch him and question him about everything he did, ask him why he disregarded my father's trust--" It was not like asking him but asking himself, cold anger spread in Harry's emerald eyes.

Winster knew he had made up his mind.

So he just said, "If you want to, do it, Harry." He put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"...You can understand me, right, Winster?" Harry looked up and asked. "You don't have parents either, and you grew up in the Muggle world like me."

Winster sighed silently, "…I don't know Harry, I wish I could…but I have no memory of it before, and I'm not looking forward to it."

"But you look like you think of Snape as a father. That should be a closeness to a father...right?" Harry asked with some hesitation.

"I don't know... Harry, maybe the memories I lost include my parents. But in the education I received... I only know - respect the teacher as your father." Winster's eyes were a little empty for a moment, and his gaze fell vaguely on the bright moon, but not focused.

"But if you're talking about being really that close... Harry, as far as I can remember, I've only been with Professor Snape for less than six months - you don't think a Slytherin can have such a passionate relationship in such a short time, do you?"

Winster folded his hands and said helplessly that he originally came to comfort Harry, but now it seemed like Winster was dissecting his own emotions with Harry.

"Harry, what do you think?"

Harry responded softly and confided, "I was very happy after I knew I had a godfather... That meant I had a father again who could protect me and care about me... But they told me that he was the murderer and traitor who killed my parents... I had a feeling of losing again, do you understand, Winster? This, this feeling is really terrible!" Harry whispered.

"Does this make you feel betrayed, Harry?" Winston said softly after a moment of silence.

"Maybe... I wonder if Dad felt the same way as I do now when he died at the hands of Voldemort... I can't get my mother's pleading voice out of my ears."

Harry couldn't help but put his hand over his heart and spoke in a suppressed tone.

He seemed to hear again his mother's voice begging Voldemort to let him go.

"So you want to kill him?" Winster asked. "Kill the murderer who killed your parents?"

"...I don't know, but I, but I..." Harry whispered the word softly, his voice so soft that it seemed like it would disappear with the wind.

"Then I don't need to say anything more about what Black might be hiding." Winster said, "You've made up your mind." He stood up from the snow, patted the snow off his body and said

"I hope that happens more than you do." Harry also stood up and wiped the snow off his face.

The moon had risen very high, the stars had disappeared, and the snow was gradually subsiding.

Winster shook his head, "Well, it's getting late, we should go back. Hermione and Ron are still looking for us."

"Oh." Harry's tone finally became uneasy, "Are they still looking for me?"

Dinner should be about to start now. Filch will check on the returning students one by one. I wonder if it will make things difficult for them if they come back late.

"I'm afraid so," said Winston, "but I messaged Hermione just now as I found you to tell her we were going back to the castle. They should be waiting for you at the Gryffindor table by now, Harry."

"That's great." Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

As they passed the Shrieking Shack, Harry suddenly remembered what Winston had dropped when he had just climbed up.

"...I remember you dropped something down there just now? Aren't you going to pick it up?" he asked, while looking towards the Shrieking Shack. There was a row of footprints on the snow and a layer of shallow crush marks, extending from a semi-human-shaped pit into the Shrieking Shack.

"Did you buy the crystal ball?"

"Yes," replied Winston, pulling Harry along at a quick pace. "Wait till it falls there, Harry. I'll come back for it when I have a chance, and few people will go down there. Now we have to get back to school. You don't want to miss the dinner and then have to compete with Filch on the night patrol, do you?"

"You're right." Harry suddenly remembered that it would take a long hour to walk from here back to school, and he couldn't help but quicken his pace.

……

Early the next morning, Winster was awakened by the warning spell on his dormitory door before he had enough sleep.

Snape stormed in.

Yesterday Winster and Harry came back too late and missed the dinner, just barely catching up with the end of the night curfew.

"I hope you know, teacher, that the position of dean is not given to you to break into your 'dear student's' dormitory and wake him up at five or six in the morning on the first day of Christmas vacation."

Winster, wearing a messy nightgown, pointed his wand expressionlessly at the dormitory door that was opened with a bang, and emphasized with dissatisfaction while stepping on the ground with his bare feet.

Crookshanks was curled up in his bed, soundly asleep.

There was a sickly blush on Winster's face, and his voice was hoarse as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep. His whole body was filled with a low mood as if he had been woken up.

"That just tells you that you should be on guard, White." Snape ignored Winster's low mood, glanced at the hastily tidied dormitory, and walked in quickly.

"You should be careful of thieves who come to steal your precious materials."

"No one would place traps in the dormitory, teacher - I now store all my potions with you." Winster said with some dissatisfaction and sneezed.

"Who would dare to steal your things?" Winston turned his head and wrapped his nose with a tissue and said hummingly, except Hermione.

Snape glanced at him, then his eyes moved precisely to Crookshanks, who was curled up in Winston's bed and sleeping soundly.

"Then you can continue to sleep in. I'd like to borrow Granger's Kneazle. It can catch mice, right?"

He said as he quickly extended his hand.

Crookshanks, awakened, swiftly rolled over to avoid Snape's hand that was grabbing the scruff of his neck, and his fur stood up as he breathed out at Snape.

"It just has some Kneazle bloodline—" Winster answered subconsciously, and then was awakened by the key words, "Rat? What rat?"

Scabbers? Is Wormtail so bold?

Snape frowned and glared at the ungrateful cat. He snorted coldly, and froze the cat with a petrification spell. He picked up the cat's tail without looking back and walked out.

"The rat that stole your potion." Snape's voice was like a devil's whisper. "The materials were wasted. Guess if there are any materials you forgot to clean up after you processed them, White."

Winster jumped out of the dormitory with a start, quickly put on a robe and rushed to catch up with Snape, "How is my potion? Teacher, I left it on the cabinet in your office the day before yesterday - let me hold the cat."

The petrified Crookshanks looked at him resentfully.

"If you mean your mess of failed works full of troll wisdom, White, I'm sorry to tell you that those mice are smarter than your head which looked like it was hit by a troll when you came up with this idea." Snape threw the cat into Winster's arms and sneered as he strode forward.

"." Winster rolled his eyes and freed his hands to remove the curse from Crookshanks.

Crookshanks did not run away after being freed from the petrification. He just bit the back of Winster's hand lightly to vent his anger. His flat face was buried in Winster's arm, and his tail was slapping Winster's arm in dissatisfaction.

The Potions Office was very close to Little Snake's dormitory, and they soon arrived at the door of the Potions Office. Winster could still see a few dead mice lying twitching at the door of the portrait.

Filch was waiting for them, hunched over at the door of his office.

Seeing Professor Snape, Filch hurriedly came forward: "Professor Snape, you're back! I have sent Mrs. Norris back as you requested. She was very obedient and didn't touch your mice... See?"

Snape simply hummed and waved his wand to open the office door. Filch didn't even glance at Winston next to him, but followed Snape's butt in a flattering manner.

"I found a student's cat with Kneazle descent to catch mice... Filch, there are too many mice in the castle recently. They have ruined a bunch of my rare potions." Snape said coldly, "I remember this is the duty of the castle manager."

As he stepped into the office and waved his wand, Filch did not dare to follow him in. He hesitated at the portrait door and could only stare at Winster with fierce and strange eyes as he walked past him into the office. His eyes could not stop staring inside, as if he was trying to scare Winster into helping him go in and take a look.

Bluffing. When Winster stepped through the threshold, he saw Snape waving his wand and directing a large number of dead mice to fall from various corners to the ground in the middle of the office.

Winster saw that the potion cabinets on both sides had been emptied, with only some rare potions brewed by Snape and a row of Winster's failed works placed at the top where mice could not reach.

The door to the potions storeroom was shut tight.

"Yes... that's right, Professor Snape." Filch answered cautiously. "But recently, I don't know what happened. All the rats in the school have swarmed into the castle, as if there were some monster outside that would eat them. Norris and I have caught several cages of rats... Mrs. Norris doesn't even want to eat them now. There are too many, sir."

Filch said awkwardly.

"I have reported this unusual situation to Professor McGonagall."

Snape frowned as a pile of rat carcasses killed by rat extermination potion piled up on the carpet, long black furry strips forming a small hill.

"Didn't find the reason?"

Snape counted the relatively intact herbs with displeasure.

Filch replied stiffly.

"Professor McGonagall said that there might be some magical wild animals that have recently escaped into the Forbidden Forest. She is investigating."

Winster stood aside with his hands hanging.

"Teacher, are there rats in your potion storage room as well?"

He asked curiously.